Wildshower

Being a triathlete is a series of Initiations of Indignities. There's the indignity of trying on tri shorts for the first time, being passed by little old ladies during a race... Wildflower introduced a brand new indignity to me.

Wildflower is a long race and much of the run is along dirt tails. So by the end of the day you are smelly and dirty and just all around gross. Nothing would be better than a nice long shower. The problem is that the campground doesn't really have "showers"; what they have is a half-dozen spigots spread 3 feet apart along a concrete wall in the men's room. Not to be a prude or anything, but I appreciate a little bit of privacy. I have certainly been in other open-shower situations for Masters Swim classes, but what makes Wildflower unique is that the people washing up weren't the usual fat old men; these were guys who just finished a half-ironman several hours faster than I did. Big Guys. The kind of guys whose abs poke through their wetsuits.

I am sure that during the 80s, there MUST have been a movie or TV show about a 12-year old child prodigy who gets sent off to college and has to use the dorm showers. That's kind of how I felt.

There wasn't even any hot water left. Stupid Wildflower showers.